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Chapter Text

Akira opened his eyes to an inferno.

Flames danced in front of him in a storm of destructive heat, radiant to a nearly blinding extent.

His first thought was that it was a hallucination born out of the haze clouding his senses. His vision was unfocused, and he felt exhausted, sluggish at best, but the ache in his bones was a sharp, grounding pain. It flared at his temples and behind his eyes, accompanied by a cluster of colours dancing across his vision.

He assumed he’d just regained consciousness from a devastating attack if the pain throughout his body indicated anything, until he realised that he was still standing. A slow attempt at steadying his footing indicated that wouldn't be for long.

From what he could see, a dark, blurred shape towered over him. Distantly, a part of him figured that the image was a clear cause for alarm, but he was too distracted to give it much thought. There was a strange noise in the background that he was focused on but couldn't place, something clinking together that sounded both far away and all too close for his liking. The rattling of metal upon metal drowned out by the pounding in his head and the sound of someone far away shouting a nickname that was too bizarre to be his own.

Or maybe it was just strange enough to belong to him.

Another wall of fire burst to life in front of him, separating him from the odd form before he could dwell on it any further. He would've thought the sudden inferno was a hallucination just like the first one, a side effect from the concussion he thought he had if he couldn't feel the destructive heat merely inches away. Akira instinctively stepped back to escape it, swaying unsteadily on his feet before tripping over his own coattails and crashing onto his back. The abrupt movement made his stomach turn, only worsening his dizziness, and he turned on his side in case the nausea increased, propping himself up on an elbow.

He swallowed, willing himself not to throw up. He didn’t think he could handle that right now.

Akira looked up as his vision began to focus and the chaos of the battlefield returned to his awareness. He heard a loud, deep groan come from the figure in front of him as well as a mixture of voices shouting various orders and attacks over the roar of flames. The strange noise from before resumed, louder than ever, and he realised that it was devastatingly familiar. It was the rattling of chains, a devastating sound he only associated with himself, and a monster born from Mementos' depths.

Enveloped in a blaze of red and orange and staggering toward Ann in retaliation was The Reaper, who Akira abruptly realised had been hell-bent on attacking him prior to Ann's fiery intervention.

She'd just saved his life.

He couldn't quite meet her gaze across the battlefield, her attention was firmly focused on her opponent and her own safety. He couldn't fault her for that, not when she'd just risked it to protect him. All the same, he hoped to express his gratitude to her later. Perhaps after the battle, when he had recovered. For now, Akira was focusing on his own disorientation, trying to recall what he'd been hit with before the ever-present blank in his memories. He must've been suffering some sort of ailment, or maybe he'd taken one attack too many, and-

And...?

Akira could recall the start of the battle. They'd completed several requests and had been heading back to the entrance to call it a day. The Reaper had ambushed them. Futaba had been trying to find an escape route, and the Phantom Thieves were trying to buy her time. Somewhere, in the middle of the chaos, The Reaper had turned toward Akira, readying an attack and-

And what?

"Joker!" Yusuke's voice rang out from somewhere in front of him in a loud, frantic shout. It took Akira a while to realise that the nickname referred to him. "Are you alright?!"

"I've got him!" A set of rapidly advancing footsteps followed suit, accompanied by another yell from Ryuji, "Cover for me!"

A sudden chill was all the confirmation needed from Yusuke, ice spreading across the battlefield in a rush.

Ryuji charged through a flurry of snow to reach Akira, kneeling at his side. "You okay, man?" He asked, checking him over for injuries. "I dunno what the Reaper hit you with, but you don't look so good."

“Thanks.” Akira huffed, trying for a smile. “You don’t look too great, either.”

Relief seemed to shine in Ryuji’s eyes at the response. “If you can mess with me, you should be alright." He grinned. "Here, let’s get you up. Maybe I can flag down Mona or Queen, get you patched up. Panther’s been a bit busy with saving your ass, so she's prolly low on stamina.”

Akira smirked as he took Ryuji’s offered hand and let him drag him to his feet, Ryuji wrapping an arm around his side to keep him upright. “Yo, anyone good to patch up our leader over here?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Skull,” Ann shouted back, “but we’re kinda tied up over here!”

“What’s wrong?” Morgana yelled next. “Is he hurt or has he been hit with an ailment-”

The next of the Reaper’s attacks cut him off, a rain of fire pouring down the other side of the battlefield. Ann, unscathed, led an immediate counterattack while Morgana and Yusuke recovered.

"Joker," Makoto was at his side now, resting a hand on his shoulder. Akira jumped at her sudden appearance, he hadn't noticed her making her way over. "I think Panther might be able to create an opening if she keeps this up. Do you think you could support her? What Personas do you have on you?”

“Huh?”

“Joker.” Her words were clipped but her expression was apologetic. “I know you were just knocked down but I need you to focus. What Personas do you have on you? What elements can you use?”

"Per... What?" Akira paused and attempted to sound out the unfamiliar term, brow furrowing in thought. The syllables came out quietly and clumsily, triggering a brief stab of pain at his temple. He grimaced, meeting Makoto’s gaze when she touched the side of his face. She was looking at him critically, but he knew her well enough to notice the alarm behind her guarded expression. Something was wrong. Ryuji seemed aware of it as well, having heard him. He couldn’t place why they were both looking at him with such horrified expressions.

“Oracle, scan Joker!” Akira didn’t understand the order, or the tension that had settled into Makoto’s posture, or the way Ryuji moved in front of them in a stance that could only be described as protective after checking that Akira could stand on his own. Akira could have laughed at the thought - he didn’t need protection. He was the last person on the team who did, after all he had-

Abruptly, he was drawing a blank, and it felt infuriating. There was something missing, something clearly important if the worried glances his teammates kept sending him meant anything. He felt a mixture of anger and panic rising within him, and wasn't sure which feeling he should let consume him first. If whatever he'd forgotten was so crucial, why were his teammates keeping it from him?

Akira turned to Makoto for answers, but she was focused on watching the others charging toward the Reaper with a rallying shout. She shot him an apologetic glance, squeezed his shoulder, and took off to join them. Sparks flew as her tekko clashed with the Reaper's blade, Yusuke rushing in to assist, allowing Morgana and Ann a quick breather. 

Ryuji swapped out with her to return to Akira's side, which was entirely unlike the self-proclaimed charge commander, Akira thought.

“Skull-” Akira’s question died in his throat as he felt warmth and saw a shower of sparkles surround him, the telltale sensation of Futaba scanning him with her...ability?

That didn’t seem right...

“Joker’s forgotten everything!” came her frantic announcement not a second later. “He can’t summon his Persona!”

“My what?” Akira wasn’t such why the question came out so panicked. “Skull, what-”

“It’s okay, man.” Ryuji hushed, patting down his clothes in search of something. “Give me a minute, I’ll find a curative and it’ll wear off.”

“What will wear off? I don’t understand-” He froze at the sight of Makoto being enveloped in blue flames, and a creature, a Shadow, appearing right beneath her. He didn't think, he simply began charging toward her, shouting, “Queen-” 

“No, Joker, stop!” Ryuji yanked him back, bracing him against his chest, wrapping both arms around him while Akira struggled and fought against him. “Joker, she’s fine. She’s fine, I swear-”

“That’s a Shadow, Queen, Fox and-” he started listing off every team member so close to strange-looking Shadows he’d never seen without even realising it, “you need to tell them-”

“They’re not in danger, man!" Ryuji insisted, straining as Akira continued to escape his grasp. "Those are their Shadows. Their Personas. You just don’t remember-”

Again, the strange, unfamiliar term sent a stab of pain throughout Akira's skull. It almost felt like a punishment for listening to Ryuji talk about...whatever he was explaining. Akira grimaced, clutching his head, and suddenly, Ryuji was apologising, releasing him, saying his goodbyes, and leaving his side to rejoin the battle that waged on ahead of them.

Akira was in so much pain that he just let him leave, choosing to stagger his way to the nearest wall and collapse against it.

Before he knew it, Ann was there, her voice as gentle as her worried expression. "Joker? Hey, you alright?"

"I don't understand what's happening." Akira admitted quietly, and he felt pathetic just for saying it. Ann's features softened. 

"It's going to be okay. I think I have something that can help." She motioned for him to open his hand, and pressed what looked like a small capsule into his palm. "Take this."

He took it without hesitation, thankful when she passed him a can of something to drink to wash it down. It took a minute, but the fogginess began to clear. 

“Better?” Ann asked when the tension began to noticeably fade from his posture, and she smiled when he nodded, echoing, “Better.”

“Good. Oracle's found an escape route.” She squeezed his hands, and he flinched a little, unable to recall when she grabbed them. “So I think it’s time we retreat, Leader.”

Akira agreed with her wholeheartedly, and made the call without hesitation. Likewise, there were no objections from his teammates. 

Makoto took the wheel the second Morgana had transformed, and once everyone had clambered inside, they were off, leaving the Reaper in the dust.

"So, we're makin' a pact to make sure that never happens again, right?" Ryuji asked once they'd returned to the real world. "I say next time, we just run for it."

"Well, considering that we were ambushed, I don't think there was much that we could've done better." Makoto sighed, flexing her fingers to shake off the lingering ache from the battle. "But, if there is a next time, we'll have to remember not to engage. Not unless we're a lot stronger than we are now."

"Ooh, are you saying you'd like us to do a training arc?" Futaba's eyes lit up. "We can have a montage and everything!"

"I wouldn't be opposed to some more training, after what we just went through." Yusuke allowed. "But it's difficult to train in Mementos if a prolonged stay invites the Reaper's wrath."

"I'm sure if we put our heads together, we can figure something out." Ann reasoned. "Maybe we can brainstorm in the group chat and workshop some ideas?"

"Yes, that sounds like a good plan." Makoto seemed pleased at the idea. "There's no rush, after all. For now, we can just be grateful we made it out of that fight."

"You can say that again!" Morgana huffed. "For a minute, I thought we were goners!"

While the group shared an uneasy laugh, Ryuji nudged Akira's side with his elbow. "How're you, by the way? Feelin' alright?"

"Yeah." Akira nodded, careful and slow. His head still felt somewhat foggy. Most of it had cleared, but there was a touch of haze that hadn't quite faded.

"You sure, man?" Ryuji pressed, all too familiar with how often Akira put his own health on the backburner. He narrowed his eyes, then glanced at Morgana. "Keep an eye on him, yeah?"

"That's my job!" Morgana replied before side-eyeing Akira a little too strongly.

"I'm fine." Akira chuckled at their concern, even more so when the others shot him pointed looks, "Just a little dizzy, that's all."

"Not to worry!" Futaba puffed out her chest, placing her hands on her hips. "When we get home, I'll make sure he has plenty of Sojiro's curry, and send him straight to bed!"

Akira laughed at that. "What are you, my mother?"

Futaba's eyes gleamed. "No, but Sojiro's like two steps away from being your coffee dad, too, so-"

Ryuji and Ann immediately burst out laughing while Akira's resulting snort was more out of shock, "My what-"

"Or our humble caffeine father, some could argue-" Futaba cackled, "it's either that or our beloved bean daddy, which-"

"Futaba and I are going home, now." Akira hooked an arm around her neck, waving with the other as he dragged her toward their train line, "Talk to you guys later!"

Futaba's manic laughter trailed after them, earning a few concerned and irritated looks from the crowds of workers and fellow students on their way home, but she thankfully got it out of her system before their train arrived. The amused smile stayed stamped on her face, however, which just led to Akira shaking his head and chuckling under his breath once they stepped inside.

"How long have you been cooking that one up, huh?" Akira asked while Futaba was making herself comfortable on a free chair. He stood in front of her, passing his bookbag to her so it wouldn't disturb the strangers pressed so closely to him, and so Futaba could playfully torment Morgana. Her eyes lit up as she hugged the bag to her chest with a quiet, delighted gasp.

"If I had to say..." Futaba's resulting grin at his question was a little too devious. "Long enough! I mean, with how much Sojiro's taught you about making coffee and curry, and looking after Leblanc, it's almost like he's preparing you to take over the place for him! And, you know, considering that he's already adopted me and is clearly doing a tsundere adoptive father figure routine with you, too-"

Akira snorted under his breath. "How much would I have to pay you to say any of this in front of him?"

"Hmm, maybe one day, but not yet!" Futaba grinned. "He'd probably cry if I even joked about calling him dad. If it was you, though, hmm..."

"Please don't get any ideas." Akira hushed. "My blood pressure can only go so high." 

She looked a little too proud to hear that.

A few quiet mumbles sounded from his bag, likely Morgana wanting to talk but keeping himself quiet as Futaba and Akira hadn't paid the pet fee for their ride home. Futaba tilted her head to listen in, then looked at Akira. "Mona wants to know how you're doing."

Akira shrugged. "As fine as I was when Ryuji asked me five minutes ago."

"Yeah, but," Futaba listened in for Morgana's mumbling again, "Mona's right, you were really out of it. Way more out of it than anyone else's been when forgetting about their Persona in battle."

Akira merely shrugged again. "I don't know what to tell you. My head still feels a bit hazy, but other than that, I'm fine."

"I don't know... I mean, usually there aren't any lasting effects when we leave the Metaverse, right?" Futaba pressed, to which Akira nodded thoughtfully. "So if you're still feeling weird, that's not a good sign. We still don't really know what the Reaper's capable of, so..." She frowned, listening for Morgana, then nodded at whatever he'd said. "...maybe we should head back and give you another healing item, or-"

"I'm fine, Futaba," Akira hushed, "Like you said, I'm sure I just need some curry, and some rest. If it gets worse, we can head back to the Metaverse."

"You promise?" Futaba asked.

"I promise." Akira smiled, reaching forward to ruffle her hair. She swatted at his hands as if she were irritated, but she looked nothing but pleased at the affection. 

They rode the rest of the train in a content silence, and for the most part, Futaba believed him. She still made a mental note to keep an eye on him, worried that Akira's dizziness and post-battle exhaustion was more apparent than he was letting on, given that he seemed so out of it that he looked confused when she told him they were at the stop for Yongen. Then Akira had blinked, nodded, as if to himself, and followed her back to Leblanc without a word.

Sojiro seemed to notice it over dinner, too, telling Akira to head to bed as soon as he was done eating. Akira smiled at him, amused, but did as asked. He messed up Futaba's hair again in that irritatingly affectionate way of his while he said goodnight to them both, and she hoped it wasn't too obvious how warm it made her feel. It was hard to fight the grin the move always prompted, especially when Sojiro's gaze fell on them both in that soft, fond way of his, but Futaba couldn't help it. Jokes aside, she truly hoped Akira felt as at home with her and Sojiro as she did.

She hoped that it wasn't just her that felt their bond shifting into something more familial.

"Morning." Sojiro greeted Akira with the usual coffee and curry when he made it downstairs the next day, but the stern look on his face was a surprise. It wasn't until after he took a seat, with Morgana at his feet, that Akira knew why Sojiro was unhappy with him. "I'm sure you were just tired, kid," Sojiro said, "but you forgot to lock up last night."

Akira's heart dropped into his stomach.

"That's not just bad for the stuff in the cafe, like the register," Sojiro went on, "but it puts your safety at risk, too. So...just be more careful, yeah?"

"I-" Akira ducked his head, cheeks burning. "Yeah." He said, ashamed. He couldn't believe that he'd actually forgotten something so important. Usually, he was so, so careful with locking up Leblanc, he always had been ever since Sojiro had first trusted him with the keys. What was wrong with him? "I'm so sorry-"

Sojiro held up a hand. "It's fine, kid. Luckily, nothing happened, and you're safe. That's what matters." He assured. "And, it's not like this is a habit of yours, so just-"

"I'll remember tonight. Promise." Akira vowed.

"Good." Sojiro nodded, then glanced at his coffee and curry. "Now eat your breakfast, it's getting cold."

"Thanks for the food." Akira had some coffee, first, then moved onto his food. Morgana devoured some tuna while Sojiro and Akira watched and conversed about the news, but even then, he still felt awful. Sojiro didn't seem too upset, now that the matter had been spoken about, but Akira couldn't imagine how upset he must've been when he realised the door had been unlocked. Akira knew he must've been pissed, and, if this had happened just a few months ago, Sojiro would have been livid with him. 

Akira knew that Futaba's recent and miraculous recovery had meant that Sojiro was also happier than Akira had ever seen him, so maybe that was why he hadn't received as harsh of a chewing out as he once might've. Akira also knew this was the only time he'd get away with forgetting something so important, not that he ever planned on doing it again. He double checked his pocket for the spare key, just in case, and was glad to find it there. Good. He'd lock up as soon as Sojiro left for the night. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about it.

His phone buzzed in his other pocket, and, for the moment, Akira was glad for the distraction.

>>Group Chat: The Phantom Thieves, 7:33am

Ryuji: So I've been thinking about the whole Reaper thing...

Ryuji: And if we need to get stronger, what if we set up a proper training routine?

Ryuji: I used to do it with track all the time! Having a set schedule makes everything way easier.

Akira: Sounds good to me.

Akira: Would it be like the one you made for our runs? Some days off, some days on?

Ryuji: Idk, maybe! It'll have to be a group effort since we've all got shit to do.

Ann: I think it's a great idea! Maybe we should start with everyone listing what afternoons work best.

Makoto: Good morning, everyone.

Makoto: And yes, I agree. We'll have everyone upload their preferred days, and go from there.

Ann: This is so cute! We should get a group calendar going or something.

Akira: I'm sure Makoto would love to colour code our extra-curricular activities.

Makoto: ...

Makoto: I would, actually.

With a grin, Akira put his phone away, and finished his breakfast. After stretching, washing up, and thanking Sojiro again for the food, he headed for the door.

"...You gonna take your bag?" 

Akira blinked, turned his head, and saw that Sojiro had his bag in one hand with an unimpressed-looking Morgana at his feet. Akira winced, his face burning once again as he reached for both. 

"You sure you're alright, kid?" Sojiro pressed after Akira slung his bag over his shoulder, Morgana curling up inside with a quiet huff. "Must've been some rough night."

"Yeah, I just-" Akira pressed a palm to his forehead, "I don't know, I just didn't sleep well, I guess. Sorry."

"You've got a bad habit of apologising for things that ain't always your fault, you know." Sojiro mused. "Just...rest up when you get home, alright? And don't stay up late tonight."

"Yes, sir." Akira gave him a joking salute, and that eased the man's concerns a little. "Alright, I'm off."

"Take care, kid." Sojiro said, and Akira knew that he really, truly meant it, if the worried crease in his brow was any indication.

Akira smiled, nodded, and headed out.

"How could you forget me?!" Morgana demanded the second Akira stepped into the street, after shutting Leblanc's front door behind him.

"I'm sorry," Akira winced, "really, I am. I..." He scratched his head. "I don't know."

"Hmph! Maybe I'll just spend my time with Lady Ann, today." Morgana huffed, and Akira knew by the dramatics that he was off the hook. "I mean it! At least she'd remember me!"

"How could anyone ever forget you, sweet, charming Mona?" Akira sighed melodramatically, matching his energy. "Oh, I couldn't even imagine it!"

Morgana snickered, settling down in Akira's bag as he made it to the station, and Akira was just glad that his companion wasn't actually upset.

...Well, maybe he'd buy some nice, fatty tuna on the way home, just to make sure.

Akira wasn't sure if the universe just had it out for him or something, but every time he wanted to be left alone, it was like Shujin as a whole took it personally.

Whenever he was sick, or unwell, or plagued with feelings of dizziness and light-headedness like he was today, it was like his teachers collectively decided to make him suffer for it. By now, he was used to being called on in class, as it was the most subtle way his teachers (execpt for Kawakami) could punish the criminal in their class for daring to show up. However, it was like they'd all made a pact in the teacher's lounge that morning to call on him more than usual, and he was struggling under the pressure. His thoughts kept scattering away from him every time he heard his name, and the fog from yesterday hadn't faded as he'd hoped. The bombardment of questions just seemed to make it worse, and Akira panicked even with the easier questions, even the ones he knew he should've gotten correct.

Ann was aware of it, too, having sent him more than a few sympathetic looks over her shoulder, but as the day dragged on, those looks grew more worried. 

>>Private Message: Carmen's Dancer, 11:01am

Ann: Okay, I usually don't advocate for cutting class, but this is getting ridiculous.

Ann: I think you should fake passing out, and hide in the sick bay until lunch.

Akira: Does that usually work?

Ann: Well, I've never seen anyone try it.

Akira: Uh huh.

Ann: But anything's better than this. No one else's name has been called all morning!

Ann: And not to be mean, but you don't look so great, Akira. Are you okay?

Ann: Even before class, you looked really pale this morning.

Akira: I didn't sleep well last night.

Ann: Are you sure that's all that's going on?

"Kurusu! Pay attention! Is that how you listen when someone's talking to you?" 

Akira jumped, looking up just in time to have a piece of chalk hit him right between the eyes.

The classroom, save Ann, of course, erupted into a fit of barely-suppressed laughter and jeering, while Ushimaru muttered about disrespect. Akira winced, rubbing his forehead, while Ann worriedly looked over her shoulder and mouthed an apology. He shook his head. It wasn't like it was her fault, anyway. Ushimaru had treated him worse even when he had been paying attention.

"You okay?" Morgana whispered, and Akira just nodded, ignoring the lasting chuckles and stares from his classmates. He'd had worse days at Shujin, and he'd had better.

He figured he could get through today, or at least make it to lunch. Then, maybe he'd entertain the idea of hiding out in the infirmary.

His phone buzzed a few more times as class dragged on, but Akira set it aside and tried his best to focus, so he could at least get a few questions correct. But, even then, it amounted to nothing. When he tried to glance at the board or his notes for assistance, Ushimaru sent another piece of chalk his way. If Akira paused for too long to think, he was chewed out for not paying attention, regardless.

His frustration grew, but that's all he had to show for it, save for that subtle but persistent fog clouding his senses.

Just make it to lunch, Akira chanted in his head, just make it to lunch.

By the time lunch rolled around, Akira realised that he'd left his wallet at home.

Ann and Ryuji were a little too eager to take pity on him for it, arguing over who was going to buy lunch for him whilst they were still at the front of the line beside him. While their peers weren't impressed, the duo's eagerness to look after him after the awful morning he'd had cheered Akira up a little. Eventually, Ann and Ryuji agreed to go halves, and the three of them (well, four, including Morgana) retired to their usual spot on the roof. Security had tightened since April, but Makoto was also school council president, so she'd snuck them a spare key when the locks were changed.

Yusuke and Futaba had eventually replied to their ideas in the group chat, so the Phantom Thieves spent their lunch break brainstorming ideas for their future training sessions. It seemed unanimous that their Mementos requests were still high priority, and that their current plan of waiting for at least three or four jobs to be available made visiting the Metaverse more worth it. However, the more difficult jobs would have to wait until they were at least a little stronger, or faster, if certain requests had them driving around the same area long enough to tempt the Reaper.

Toward the end of lunch, the group had agreed on a tentative first draft of a Metaverse training schedule. All that was left was to pick a day for their first trial run.

"We could go Wednesday." Akira suggested aloud to his three teammates.

"That's today, leader." Ryuji laughed. "I mean, we could ask if everyone's down to go, but after yesterday, I'm not sure if it's a good idea."

"As much as I hate to say it, Ryuji's right." agreed Morgana, ignoring Ryuji's resulting "Hey!" in the background. "No offense, Akira, but I think you need it after yesterday."

"And it's not like you've had an easy day today, either." Ann said sympathetically. "How about tomorrow?"

Akira nodded, pitching the idea to the group chat, which received a unanimous vote.

"Well, if you're still not feelin' 100%, how about Ann and I come over after school?" Ryuji asked, slinging one arm around Akira's shoulders, and nudging Ann with the other. His grin was infectious. "We can just hang out, watch a movie or something, whatever you want. Whaddya think?"

"It's up to you, Akira." Ann said, but she was beaming at the idea. "But I'm happy to, if you guys are."

Akira looked at them both, and Morgana, who seemed just as keen for his answer, and sighed fondly. "Yeah." He said. "That sounds great, honestly."

Ryuji whooped loudly enough for Ann to smack his arm, hushing him, and Akira couldn't help but laugh at them both.

With their plans in mind, Akira found the rest of his classes slightly more bearable. However, when he met up with his friends after school had ended, Ann and Ryuji told him to head straight home, and that they'd both meet him at Leblanc in about half an hour or so. While they didn't elaborate on why, other than telling him that he should rest, Akira decided to listen to their wishes and head home.

"Lady Ann probably told Ryuji you've had a rough day," Morgana was saying as they made their way through the train station, "she's so considerate."

"Yeah, I think she did." Akira smiled at the thought, and the imagery of his two favourite people dramatically shooing him from the school grounds. "I wonder what they're up to."

"Hopefully they're getting snacks!" Morgana sighed dreamily. "Do you think they'll get us sushi? I hope Lady Ann remembers that I like fatty tuna the best! Hmm, and not to mention-"

As Morgana prattled on about his exquisite tastes, Akira was thankful he kept his train pass in his phone case, otherwise he would've been late to school by the time he realised he'd forgotten his wallet. He hushed Morgana after stepping onto the train and finding a rare, spare seat, and settled in for the ride with a book he'd borrowed from the library. Cry of Cthulu stole his attention for so long that he only got off at Yongen due to Morgana's reminder. He'd even missed a few of updates Ann and Ruji had sent about their ETA to the group chat they'd had before they'd met Yusuke and the others.

To Morgana's dismay, no, they were not bringing expensive tuna, but they were bringing other snacks for both Akira and Morgana to enjoy.

Sojiro seemed pleased at the idea of Akira having a relaxing afternoon with his friends, and even closed up Leblanc early for them. Akira thanked Sojiro when he left, then went to change out of his uniform and clean up his room. It was something he'd inherited from his mother - a compulsive need to clean in the event that guests were coming over. It wasn't like the attic was a mess, not like the way it'd been when he first made it to Tokyo, but it'd been a while since he'd last dusted, and there were plenty of books left haphazardly here and there. And, of course, there were scraps left all over his workbench from a few nights ago when he'd made a ridiculous amount of lockpicks until Morgana had pratically dragged (or clawed) him to bed.

Morgana claimed that he wasn't a cat, but he seemed happy to stretch out on the floorboards and catch the last few rays of sunlight for the day while Akira cleaned.

Before he knew it, there was the telltale jingle of Leblanc's front door, and Akira jumped at the sound until he heard Ann and Ryuji's cheery voices.

"Forgot to lock the door again?" Morgana teased, grinning at him for being caught off guard, and Akira chuckled, embarassed.

"For your information, no." He said as dramatically as possible, but there was a part of him that wondered, I meant to leave it unlocked for them, didn't I?

"Hey, hey!" Ryuji made it up the stairs first, dragging Akira into a one-armed hug before dumping a few plastic bags onto the couch. "We've brought snacks!"

"Sorry we're a little late!" Ann was right behind him, giving Akira a hug as well. "We couldn't decide what rentals to bring."

"Games or movies?" Morgana asked, seeming excited.

"Both!" Ann laughed. "Like I said, we couldn't choose." She placed her bags with Ryuji's, then beamed. "Where should we start? Snacks?"

"Please." Akira grinned.

The night was just what Akira needed, he thought, even if his weird headache still lingered.

He massaged his forehead a few times, and eventually took some painkillers after Ann asked if he was alright for the fourth or fifth time. Still, even if the pain eased somewhat, the haziness didn't. If anything, it felt like it was getting worse. It felt like his head was full of fog, and it was affecting him more and more. But then, every so often, it would bother him less, as if he'd forgotten it was there.

Ann and Ryuji went easy on him after a few rounds of video games proved that he was as rusty as ever. Ryuji seemed a little concerned about it, making a few comments about how Akira usually kicked his ass in one game or the next, but Akira just laughed, embarassed that he was so out of practice. Morgana joked that Ryuji should lay off him, but Akira didn't miss his glances every so often, either. Ann simply changed the subject, and switched to another game, and the matter was dropped. Well, whatever the matter was.

When the night was wrapping up, though, Akira passed Ann the painkillers he'd borrowed, and she stared at him as if he'd gone mad.

"Those are yours, 'kira." She said, and Akira snorted, because of course they were. 

"Dude, I know we've asked you like a million times," Ryuji sighed, "but seriously, get some rest tonight. You've been out of it since yesterday."

"He's right, y'know." Ann looked as worried as Ryuji did. "That fight must've really messed you up, I mean, you look exhausted."

"Don't worry!" Morgana chimed in for him. "I'll make sure he heads straight to bed after he locks up!"

"Glad to hear it." Ann leaned down to scratch under Morgana's chin, then straightened up to hug Akira goodbye. Ryuji, with a big grin, decided to join in on the embrace. 

When they pulled apart, Akira tried his best to make his smile look comforting. 

"I'll see you tomorrow-" He swallowed, cleared his throat, and tried to act as if the fact that his best friends' names didn't come to him immediately was just a sign of fatigue. "-Ann... Ryuji."

Ryuji clapped him on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow, then." 

Akira nodded, ignoring the pit in his stomach as he watched them both go.

He was just tired, he reasoned with himself. Surely he was just tired.

"Let's get you to bed." Morgana said, and Akira nodded, turning on his heel, until he heard, "Wait, did you lock the front door?"

Akira paused, and patted his jeans for keys that weren't there. "No," He sighed, "not yet."

"Then let's do that, first." Morgana decided. 

"Sounds good." Akira nodded in agreement. "I'll brush my teeth, afterwards, then I'll head to bed." Morgana shot him a look, so he added, "Promise."

It took about ten minutes for Akira to find his keys, and after he locked up, he felt a lot better about heading to bed. After he was dressed, he turned the lights off, much to Morgana's confusion.

"Didn't you say you were going to brush your teeth, first?"

Akira blinked. "Did I?" When had he said that?

Morgana just stared at him, blankly, like he was losing his mind.

Akira pressed a hand to his head as the fogginess returned to the forefront.

Maybe I am.

Chapter Text

To put it lightly, Akira was having an awful day.

For starters - he'd woken up late because he hadn’t turned his alarm on before he went to bed, which meant he'd only had enough time to shovel in half of his already-cold breakfast once Morgana had woken him up. Akira would’ve left Leblanc without his keys or bookbag if it hadn’t been for Sojiro’s bewildered questioning, and even then, he still barely made it to Shujin in on time after getting off at the wrong stop.

Luckily, Kawakami went easy on him even though he had almost missed roll call, and she'd just looked concerned about his out-of-character lateness. Ann's worry was palpable once he made it to his seat, and she texted him as many fretful messages as she could without Kawakami noticing, asking what was wrong and why he looked so out of it. Akira sent back a few short responses to try and soothe her concerns, but from the look she gave him over her shoulder, he knew his texts had just made things worse.

Classes were even more unbearable than the day before. Akira got every single question he was asked wrong and got enough hits of chalk to the forehead that it was red and stinging by the time lunch rolled around. Even then, Ann and Ryuji had to buy him lunch again because he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember where he’d left his wallet. Eventually, Akira had complained about how out of it he felt over the course of lunch that Ann and Ryuji decided to make an executive decision and drag him to the nurse's office themselves. Both of them seemed fully convinced that he was suffering from another migraine brought on from stress or overworking himself, and that his awful morning - namely, the chalk strikes to the forehead - had just made it worse.

Akira wasn't sure if it was a migraine or not, but he was dazed and in enough pain to go along with their wishes without complaint - much to Ann and Ryuji's relief. Sojiro didn’t seem too surprised when he arrived at Shujin to pick up his charge, either, simply ushering Akira to the car with a quiet sigh, as if he'd been expecting the phone call.

The drive passed Akira by in a blur, and Sojiro didn't leave his side until Akira was in bed. Even then, his guardian seemed hesitant to leave. He had this look on his face of grave, deep concern that Akira hadn't seen since his first Third Eye-induced migraine back in April. He lingered by the stairs for a while, seeming worried that Akira wasn’t able to take care of himself, or that he just wouldn’t.

Then, the moment passed, and Sojiro seemed to stop fighting with himself about it. With a resigned, heavy, "Get some rest, kid," he was gone. 

Morgana curled up beside Akira, ever-dedicated to his self-imposed duty of making sure Akira always got enough rest, and headbutted his arm gently. It was such a small but sweet gesture of affection that it made Akira smile, despite it all. "Goodnight, Akira."

"Night, Mona." Akira whispered back, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars spattered across his ceiling until he fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes next, Futaba was there, sitting at the foot of his bed with Morgana curled up in her lap. She paused the game on her phone when she noticed he was awake, and smiled at him.

"Hey, sleepyhead." She teased. "Sojiro said he had to pick you up early. Another migraine?"

"Dunno." Akira winced as he sat up, still feeling somewhat dizzy. He was grateful for the bottle of water Futaba passed him, and downed half of it in one go.

As he ran a hand through his sweat-laden hair, and Morgana ambled over to his side despite Futaba's protest of, "traitor!", Akira checked his phone. With a glance at the time, he realised he'd been out for about four hours straight. It was no wonder it was getting dark outside. He wouldn't be surprised if Sojiro had locked up Leblanc for the night and headed home.

"Do you feel any better?" Morgana asked, and Akira took another swig of water before he answered. 

"Yeah." He tried for a comforting smile that didn't seem to convince either Morgana or Futaba.

I think so? He wondered to himself. He couldn't really tell. 

“Y’know, if you’re not up for tomorrow, you don’t have to go.” Futaba said quietly.

“Tomorrow?” Akira blinked.

“The training arc, remember? To beef up in case we run into the Reaper again?" Futaba pressed. "We’re going to Mementos after school, like we talked about.”

“It’s only meant to be a test drive,” Morgana assured quickly, as if he were worried that Akira would feel left out if he wasn't well enough to go, “we’ll stick to the plan, and stay in the higher levels to begin with, and make our way down after we clear out each floor. We've all agreed that we'll run the second we hear the Reaper coming, if it comes to that."

Akira just stared at them blankly like this was the first time anyone had mentioned this plan to him. Futaba swallowed as the silence stretched on, and Akira's expression remained as vacant as ever. Her heart went out to him. She wasn't sure what migraines were like - she'd never had one, herself - but she'd never seen him look so... not there. It was like he'd completely zoned out. Whatever pain or nausea he was suffering from must've been awful, which meant, to her at least, that he was in no shape to even step foot into the Metaverse.

"Okay, Akira, I'm sorry," Futaba blurted out, "I know you’re the leader, and we all really love and respect you and everything you do for all of us-”

Awareness returned to Akira's eyes all of a sudden, which flooded her with relief as he said, teasingly, “That sounds bad-”

“But I think I’m gonna have to make an executive decision - or at least put it to a group vote – that you’re not coming with us tomorrow.”

Her face turned scarlet as Akira looked at her in clear surprise before his expression shifted into something more neutral. Her heart sank a little deeper. It was hard to tell what Akira was thinking, sometimes. He was a little too good at hiding what he was really thinking or feeling, but she knew the idea of being benched, especially as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, must've stung just a little.

“I hate to say it, but she’s right, Akira.” Morgana sighed. “You shouldn't be heading into battle with a migraine. It could put you in danger and-"

“-It's okay, I understand.” Akira reassured him. “Just- be careful, okay? Both of you.”

"Of course!" Futaba seemed happier, or at least relieved enough that he'd be safe at home, now that the matter was settled. "We'll be fine."

"And we'll let you know how things go when we get back." Morgana added. "But, for now-"

"Kids!" Sojiro's voice floated up the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Futaba was off in a flash, scooping Morgana up in her arms and bee-lining for the stairs in the time it took Morgana to yelp in surprise. Akira chuckled at the sight, releasing a slow breath to get his heart to stop racing. He'd jumped, startled, at the sound of Sojiro's voice. He hadn't even known he was downstairs, let alone making dinner for Futaba and him. His heart swelled at the thought. Sojiro really looked after him when he was sick, even though he wasn't his kid - not in the way Futaba was, at least. 

"Down in a minute!" Akira called back, reaching for his phone before he dragged himself out of bed. He still didn't feel great, and took his time walking slowly and carefully toward the stairs, checking his notifications while he strolled. The names that flashed across the screen with unread messages - Carmen's Dancer and Cap'n Rattlebones - made him pause. Who the hell were they?

Frowning, he stopped, leaning on the handrail with one hand, and opened Carmen Dancer's messages first. The new messages were asking about how he was feeling, but he scrolled past those and went back into their history, trying to find out who the person was. Whoever they were, they called him by his first name, and sometimes even by Aki, which meant he knew them well. He never let anyone call him that except for...

Except for...

Shaking his head, he kept reading, and eventually found a message from himself that revealed the person's name...Ann. Ann! Of course! Akira laughed quietly to himself. No wonder their chat logs were so personal and sweet...not to mention all the discussions and debates about food. He just had no idea what would've possessed him to label Ann's number under such a weird nickname in his phone. Who was Carmen? He'd never even seen Ann dance before, either, so that left him even more confused. Shaking his head, he opened her contact details, deleted the strange nickname, and typed in...

Akira swallowed. He knew Ann's last name. He did. He just...

It started with a T, didn't it? Or a...

Fuck. She was one of his first friends in Tokyo, one of his closest friends. She knew him better than anyone back home had ever dared to. He should've known something as simple as this. 

Embarrassed, Akira quickly moved onto Cap'n Rattlebones' chat log, and while it took him a moment, he realised that it was Ryuji, and went to edit his contact details, as well. Maybe both Ann and Ryuji had put their details in under these weird names, for whatever reason, when he'd first gotten their numbers. Akira couldn't remember when or how he'd exactly received their contact details, but surely that was what had happened. Otherwise...he wasn't sure. Maybe they'd changed the names recently, as some sort of prank. As for the names themselves... did Ryuji have a special love for pirates, or something? Was it an anime reference Akira wasn't aware of? Either way, he had to edit the name to-

...He quietly tried to sound out what he remembered of Ryuji's last name. He swore it started with an S, but now he wasn't so sure. Again, his face burned with shame. Ryuji was his first friend here. His best friend, whom he was even closer to than Ann. And Akira didn't even know his full name. What was wrong with him? 

"Akira!" Futaba called. "Food's getting cold! If you don't come down and eat it, I'm eating it for you!"

Akira jumped at the sound of her voice. For a second, he wondered what she was here for, but then he remembered. Dinner. That's right. He'd made dinner. Or had she? Wait, no, Sojiro had.

He felt dizzy and unsteady on his feet for a moment. So many questions kept popping up in the back of his mind and he barely had any answers to offer them. What was going on? What was wrong? He couldn't make any sense of these little gaps that kept appearing in what he was trying to remember. Had he always been so absent-minded?

"Kid?" Sojiro's voice floated up next, quiet, concerned. "You comin' down?"

Startled, Akira dropped the phone he didn't realise he was holding, not having expected Sojiro's voice to be in the cafe when it was dark out. Hadn't he gone home? Why wasn't he at home? Blinking, he scooped up his phone, wincing a little at the new crack in the screen he'd just caused, and forced himself to stagger down the stairs. Maybe he was just lightheaded since he hadn't eaten in hours.

Yeah, he was just hungry and exhausted.

"There you are." Sojiro was taking his plate out of the microwave by the time Akira made his way downstairs, sliding onto a stool beside Futaba. "You alright, kid?"

"Y-Yeah, 'm okay." Akira's throat felt dry. "I-" He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his sweat-laden forehead. "...I dunno."

"Here, have something to eat." Sojiro set down a plate in front of him, as well as a glass of iced water and what looked like two of Takemi's pain-killers. "And once you're done eating, take these."

"Yessir." 

Futaba was now staring at him with obvious concern as he started shovelling curry into his mouth. "You sure you're okay?" She asked quietly, to which Akira hummed and nodded.

He was okay, or he thought he would be, soon. He just needed to rest, and then, he'd be fine.

No one else in Leblanc looked convinced but him.

Futaba and Morgana looked hesitant to leave the following afternoon, despite Akira's reassurances.

She had spent the day in the attic to keep them both company, seeing as Akira wasn't attending school, but it hadn't cheered Akira up like she'd hoped it would. If anything, he seemed more exhausted than yesterday, more withdrawn. He'd stumbled through every game they'd played together as if he'd never even held a controller before, despite all the weekends they'd spent holed up in the attic togther like this, surviving on nothing but coffee and curry until Sojiro had threatened to take the console off of them.

Even back then, they'd managed to get Sojrio to play a round or two before he convinced them to come downstairs for one last cup of coffee. Of course, what was waiting for them wasn't Sojiro's usual blend, but some kind of brew that had knocked the both of them out, and they were simply too sleep deprived to notice the difference until the drowsiness had kicked in. Futaba and Akira had fallen asleep in one of the booths before long, and Sojiro had snuck a picture of them curled up together once he'd draped a blanket over them.

He'd tried to play it off when he showed them the photograph later, like he was making fun of them for falling for his trap and passing out in the cafe, but Futaba knew that Sojiro had saved that picture as his phone wallpaper, and thought it was the cutest thing her guardian had ever done. Well, cutest thing that she was aware of him doing for now at least. She was convinced, if left alone, the bugs she left in Leblanc would pick up enough embarassing audio of Sojiro doting on Morgana to have him buy her a new graphics card. Unfortunately, Morgana was attached to Akira at all times, so she hadn't be able to test said theory out just yet.

Either way, when Futaba brought the story of Sojiro's infamous "non-decaf coffee", as she often loved to, Akira listened to her talk, with half-lidded eyes, like he hadn't heard it before. It unnerved her. At that point, she was considering having Sojiro drag Akira to Takemi's clinic and doing some tests or something, because whatever this was, it didn't seem normal. Akira's level of exhaustion wasn't normal.

"I'll go to bed after you leave," Akira said when she hovered by the front door, Morgana at her feet, "promise."

"And I'll be here to make sure that happens," Sojiro assured, waving her off as he brewed what smelled like a potent sleep tea, "go on, Futaba. Have a good day, yeah?"

"Okay." Futaba nodded, even though her stomach was still in knots. "I'll be back later!"

After the door swung shut behind her, and Morgana clambered into her bag, she released a breath. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I'm sure whatever Boss is cooking up will knock Akira out for at least a week," Morgana reassured gently, "I'm sure he'll be fine."

Futaba pursed her lips. She wasn't so sure. But at least the Mementos training would take her mind off of things for a little while. 

Ann, Ryuji, Yusuke, and Makoto were waiting in Central Street after school was out. They'd all agreed over text to stock up on curatives before heading into the Metaverse, just in case. So, after the inital greetings, the group headed into the nearest pharmacy and split up in order to divide and conquer. While Makoto mused over bandages and other more durable dressings, and Yusuke debated spending a few extra dollars on the heavy-duty band-aids as opposed to the cheaper version, Futaba found Ann and Ryuji just where she'd expected them to be - in the painkillers section.

It reminded Futaba of when she first joined the Phantom Thieves, and received a briefing on how they organised their curatives, how they worked in regards to the team's cognition, and everything in-between. Apparently, in the first few months that Ann, Ryuji, and Akira had been stumbling their way through the Metaverse, they'd let Akira organise everything from weapons to armour to healing items. As the team grew, it became clearer how much of a burden being in charge of all of those aspects was, especially when Akira was picking up multiple part-time jobs to afford everything. Now, the Phantom Thieves split the responsibilities and their related costs evenly, or as evenly as they could with Yusuke's horrific spending habits.

But, what stuck in Futaba's mind the most in that briefing was how there was a special reserve of painkillers set aside purely for Akira - a reserve that Ann and Ryuji had started due to how hard he'd push himself in the Metaverse even though his Third Eye ability had drawbacks that came in the form of horrific, lasting migraines that could last several days. Ever since that conversation, she'd taken notice of how seriously Ann and Ryuji took it, refusing to touch said reserve even when it came down to the worst of their battles, just in case Akira needed it. Just in case.

That supply had run out during their last trip to Mementos, before they'd even run into the Reaper. Was this what happened when Akira didn't have that reserve? Futaba wondered to herself. Would he recover if they brought him into the Metaverse long enough for a powerful curative? It didn't make sense if she tried to think about it from a logical, cognitive standpoint, but she was worried. She'd risk it, if it'd help.

"How's he holdin' up, by the way?" Ryuji asked when Futaba walked over. "Akira, I mean."

"Not too great." Futaba sighed. "I don't think he's been sleeping well, but Sojiro was brewing something to help him sleep when we left, so..."

"I'm sure Boss has it handled, then." Ann tried for a smile. "We can come visit after we're done training, and let him know how it went. Maybe that'll cheer him up."

"Maybe..." Futaba echoed, unconvinced. 

Ann squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, "Let's just focus on what we can control, okay? Ryuji and I'll handle the reserve meds, while you can get something to take home?"

"Yeah," Futaba felt better at the suggestion - felt useful, even, "sounds like a plan."

When the Phantom Thieves returned to Leblanc, tired but triumphant from their training, Akira's glasses were in the bin near his workbench. 

Ryuji wasn't sure what drew his gaze toward it, perhaps a glimmer of light reflected in the lenses, but it confused him. He wondered what had changed, all of a sudden, for Akira to discard the mask he'd seemed so attached to ever since he'd first transferred to Tokyo. As the Phantom Thieves made themselves comfortable either on Akira's bed, couch, or floor, Ryuji wondered how to bring it up. It was something of a tense subject to Akira, at times. Everyone knew that the glasses were fake - that Akira's parents had given them to him to help him blend in and appear less intimidating - but Akira wore them even though he clearly didn't want to.

It wasn't like any of his friends were too fond of them either, nor what they represented.

Ryuji was mad enough at anything that made his best friend feel like he had to hide his true self, especially when Akira was so good at making Ryuji feel like he could be himself, and never be judged for it around him. More than that - Akira's eyes were the most expressive part about him. It was almost a crime to hide them when they could show so much about what he liked or loved or hated. Whenever he wasn't wearing them, and Ryuji caught his gaze, he felt closer to him than ever. Like there was nothing between them they couldn't share.

"Ryuji, your food's gonna get cold if you just stand around like that." Futaba said, holding up a bag of take-out that practically had his name on it. "C'mon, c'mon! Isn't this place your favourite?"

She had a point. Everyone had been nice enough to give in to his pleas to get takeout from his favourite ramen spot - the one he and Akira went to whenever they had the chance. The fact that he wasn't sitting down and halfway through a bowl right now was clearly a cause for concern, if the way the others were looking at him was any indication.

Sighing, Ryuji decided to get it over with and just ask.

"Dude, your glasses..." Ryuji gestured to the bin when Akira looked confused at the mention. "You threw 'em out?"

"I don't need glasses." Akira replied with a shrug, sliding over on the bed when Ryuji neared so he could sit down beside him. "I never have."

Morgana's features brightened with sudden pride. "I see." He grinned, almost teasing. "Looks like your rebellious side is making more of an appearance in the real world, Joker."

"Pfft, that's one way of seein' it." Ryuji laughed, sliding his arm around Akira's shoulders, careful not to knock the bowl and chopsticks from his hands. He tugged him closer to his side when Akira's gaze met his. "I'm proud of you, y'know. That you feel like you don't need to wear 'em anymore. That you can be yourself." He felt his face warm as he spoke next, but he didn't care that the others were there. "Makes it easier to see your eyes, too."

Akira's face turned red, and he laughed as Ann giggled at them both. "You're such a sap." She teased, but her eyes were bright and she looked at them both with nothing but affection.

"I-" Akira cleared his throat, "I don't even know why I had them in the first place."

"Confidence reborn anew in even the smallest of gestures... fascinating." Yusuke was smiling like a man gone mad, thoughts racing with ideas for poses, "Would you allow me to sketch you later?"

"He hasn't even started eating yet, Yusuke." Makoto chided gently. "How about we save the art requests for when he's feeling a little better?"

"Of course, of course," Yusuke nodded vehemently, appeased for the moment, but it was clear that the gears in his head were still turning. 

"Good." Makoto smiled, then turned to Akira. "Training went well for the most part, but I have to say, I don't envy you, leader."

"What makes you say that?" Akira asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Well, it wasn't like we've ever been in the Metaverse without you." Futaba chimed in. "Since you're always in charge of the line-up, and whose doing what, it was weird not having you there."

"Definitely weird." Ann nodded with a laugh. "We all kept turning to you for input, and you weren't even there!"

"Our first three battles were a disaster." Morgana sighed. "It's a miracle no one got injured in all the confusion."

"Well, I mean, we were at the top of Mementos." Ryuji reasoned. "It'd be embarrassin' as hell if we had our asses handed to us up there."

"We ran into the Reaper, a few levels down." Yusuke added. "While it looked a little stranger than usual, we decided to retreat before I could do even a rough outline-"

"Inari means we ran for our lives." Futaba cackled. "And he was pouting over not being able to draw the Reaper's new look."

"New look?" Akira repeated, raising a brow.

"Yes. Instead of that reddish aura it usually has, it was glowing light blue." Makoto said thoughtfully. "Hang on...didn't it turn blue during our last battle?"

"Oh, you mean when it turned blue after giving itself a stat boost?" Futaba asked. "Yeah, you're right! Maybe that means it's still active?"

"All the more reason for us to stay far away from that thing." Ann spoke with a shudder. 

While the conversation trailed off there, and the others returned to their meals, Makoto frowned, deep in thought. Looking back, she recalled how the Reaper began to glow before doing a new attack that had knocked Akira down. Then, when he dragged himself to his feet, he'd been dazed, confused, and had forgotten how to summon his Persona. And, when they'd last seen the Reaper during their latest visit to Mementos, it was still glowing that same colour instead of the usual red, despite how many days it'd been. Did that mean its next attack would be the same as the one that had hit Akira with that ailment? Was the attack itself a two-step barrage that had been interrupted when Akira had been dragged away, and the others had distracted the Reaper?

She looked at Akira, who seemed frustrated as he typed something on his phone, but otherwise fine. Well, fine except for the exhaustion from his migraine.

Is it just a migraine, though? 

It seemed like a thought too ridiculous to entertain. If Akira had been hit with a long-lasting Forget spell, surely they would've noticed.

"I don't need glasses. I never have. I don't even know why I had them in the first place."

What if it wasn't newfound confidence? As much as Makoto hated to doubt him, and felt awful for doing so, what if he'd genuinely forgotten why he wore glasses that he didn't need?

Ann, sitting between Akira and Ryuji's legs from where she leaned against the crates that supported Akira's mattress, looked up when Akira put his phone down, looking irritated. "You okay, Aki?" She asked, and even though he nodded, she didn't look convinced. Concerned, she tilted her head to glance at his phone, and her eyes widened. "Did you lock yourself out of your own phone?" 

"Yeah. Akira huffed. "It keeps saying that my passcode is wrong."

"What?" Futaba swiped the phone to see for herself. "It says you're locked out for another hour! How many times have you been trying for?" She shook her head. "How'd you even forget your passcode in the first place?! You use your phone all the time!"

Akira just shrugged. "I don't know."

Makoto's stomach turned. She didn't want to be right. More than anything, she wanted to be wrong. Otherwise, that meant that Akira had been losing parts of himself for days, and none of them had noticed. But she had to say something. She had to know.

"Akira..." She swallowed. "When did we last see the Reaper?"

"Wait, why?" Ryuji looked just as confused as Akira did. "Makoto, you were there-"

"I want you to answer, Akira." Makoto pressed. "How long has it been since you saw the Reaper? Or, if it's an easier question, how long has it been since you were in Mementos?"

Two days. It'd been two days. 48 hours. There was no way he couldn't have known that.

Her heart sank when Akira smiled, almost amused, and said, "What's Mementos?"

The last thing someone with allegedly worsening amnesia would likely want would be a room full of people demanding to know what you could and couldn't recall. Unfortunately for Akira, that was the knee-jerk reaction of his friends, who were overcome with fear and concern about what he remembered of their time together, and what he had begun to forget.

"Guys, guys! This isn't helping!" Ann shouted over the noise, which startled enough of the Phantom Thieves into silence. "One at a time, okay? Let's not make this harder than it needs to be." She looked around the room. "Let's take turns, and try and figure this out."

"Okay," Ryuji nodded when Ann gestured for him to start, "let's start with somethin' easy." He took a breath. "Aki, what's the name of the ramen place I always take you to? Or, uh, when was the last time we had food from there?"

To his credit, Akira did seem to take the question seriously, despite how uncomfortable he'd become after all the shouting. After a moment of furrowing his brow, he shook his head apologetically. "I don't know."

"Dude," Ryuji whispered, horrified, "we just had Ogikubo."

Akira looked around the room to confirm what he'd said, and his eyes went wide as he saw the Ogikubo labels on all of the packaging. "...Oh."

"It's okay." Ann said kindly, even though things clearly weren't okay. "Next question. Um... what 'cheat food' do we always get together after school, or after modelling gigs?"

She waited for him to smile and tease her about her attachment to crêpes like he always did, but he didn't. He just hazarded a guess. "Cake?"

Ann gently shook her head, and bit her lip to stop it from trembling. 

"An easy question..." Makoto mused, half to herself. "How did we meet? No, actually... How did we become friends?"

Akira frowned. "You followed us around school..." He said. "We were in trouble for messing with..." He looked to Ann and Ryuji as if it would jog his memory. "the...pervy teacher?"

Ann and Ryuji chuckled at the name, mostly out of relief that he at least knew that much.

"Do you remember his name?" Makoto asked, and Akira shook his head.

Futaba went next, fidgeting nervously as she spoke. “Um…what’s my favourite place in the city?” She asked, quietly adding, “…we go there pretty much every weekend…”

“…Akihabara?”

The relief in Futaba, and the others by extension, was palpable. Small victories, she supposed.

Instead of asking a question, Yusuke stood up, walked over to where Akira sat, and offered him his sketchbook. "I'd like to look through this with you." Yusuke said softly. "Perhaps seeing our time together instead of hearing about it will help jog your memory. If not..." He smiled just a little. "It's good to have as a starting point, to fill in the blanks for you."

Akira's features brightened at the thought. "Yeah..." He said, seeming less uneasy than before. "Let's do it."

While Yusuke and Akira sat together, quietly going through each page in depth, the rest of the Phantom Thieves gathered around the other side of the room to discuss the next step.

"We'll have to ask him some more questions, and take note of what he says," Makoto said, "but it seems that he's forgotten more about the Metaverse than about anything else."

"That makes sense." Futaba sighed. "After all, the first thing he forgot about was his Persona." She looked over at Akira, where he beamed at Yusuke's sketches in delight. It was sweet to see his enthusiasm at first, but then Futaba began to wonder if it was because Akira didn't remember he'd seen Yusuke's sketchbook before. "But if it's bad enough that he doesn't even know what Mementos is...how bad could this get?"

"Well, we thought this was all because of a migraine, right?" Morgana said. "So, if we look back over the past couple of days and forget all about the migraine, what was he like?"

"He didn't get any of the questions right in class two days in a row." Ann recalled. "Which is weird, because he's top of the class, he normally gets everything correct out of spite, and his notes are almost as good as Makoto's. Whenever he got asked a question, he didn't know where to look on the blackboard or in his notes for the answers, and he kept forgetting that Ushimaru throws chalk for wrong answers, so he got hit in the forehead every single time."

"Ouch. Poor dude." Ryuji winced at the thought. "Uh... oh! Akira kept forgetting his wallet for lunch, which was pretty weird for him."

"And me!" Morgana announced. "He forgot to take me, and his bag, to school. He only remembered because Boss said something..." He frowned. "Oh, and he forgot to lock up Leblanc."

"On the way home from Mementos, he forgot which stop to get off at for Yongen-Jaya." Futaba mused. "And whenever we played a game together, it was like he couldn't remember the controls."

"Yeah, he was like that when Ann and I came over the other night." Ryuji nodded. "...What are we gonna do? What if we leave him alone, and he gets himself lost in the city, or somethin'?"

It was a sobering thought. If, at some point, Akira’s amnesia progressed to a point where he forgot his arrest and subsequent transfer to Tokyo, he might become confused enough to try and get back to his hometown. It was anyone's guess what could happen to him from there in the state he was in now.

"I can stay here and keep an eye on him." Futaba offered. "But Ryuji's right, what's the plan? How do we fix this?"

"We could take him to Mementos, and give him all of the ailment curatives we have?" Ann theorised. "Or, use all of the healing spells we can? Maybe both?"

"It's not like we can wait for it to wear off." Makoto nodded in agreement. "But, if that doesn't work...we may have to face the Reaper."

"No way..." Ryuji's eyes went wide. "Makoto... I'd do anythin' for Akira, and I mean anythin', but there's no way we can take him there in this state. And if we're busy holdin' the Reaper off...anythin' could happen to him. He could wander off or..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.

"Even if we figure out how to keep Akira safe, if he still can't summon his Persona, our chances of even surviving a fight with the Reaper are practically non-existent." Futaba insisted. "We've barely held out long enough for me to find an escape route every other time we've faced it! If we have to take the Reaper out to undo the ailment, then..."

"Then we might not make it." Morgana finished quietly.

The five of them looked over to where Yusuke and Akira sat, as Yusuke showed him a sketch of Arsène, to which Akira reacted with an immediate grimace. He shied away from it as if the mere sight caused him pain, clutching his head in apparent agony. Yusuke panicked, shoving the book away and apologizing, but the damage seemed done. Akira wouldn't respond to him, too swept up in the pain, and it seemed as if the decision had been made for the Phantom Thieves, just like that.

"We have to try." Makoto said softly, and despite the unease she could see on her teammates' faces, no one objected.

Chapter Text

To the team’s shared relief, Akira’s rebel attire manifested when they entered the Metaverse. The Phantom Thieves had watched their leader with bated breath as Shibuya station transformed into Mementos to his surprised, wide eyes, afraid that his will of rebellion had faded alongside his memories of the world it had come forth from. Luckily, his heart remained the same even if his mind was changing.

That sentiment was what had them on their toes – that with each moment, Akira could be losing fragments of himself, which was as dangerous as it was terrifying. A few too many memories lost of his friends, and the Phantom Thieves would look like a group of deranged, oddly dressed strangers to him. That could put him in danger, especially if the team wanted to summon and fight the Reaper.

Curatives hadn’t helped. Healing spells seemed to work long enough to stave off his symptoms and help him recall whatever it was that he’d last forgotten, but it was no cure. It was a band-aid at best. That meant that the only option was to face the Reaper, and hoped they survived long enough to save Akira.

“When we stopped to rest last time, the Reaper came for us in just a few minutes.” Futaba said, nervous as she swiped at the screens in front of her. “So, maybe, if we just stand here, it’ll appear in no time.”

“Maybe.” Makoto tried her best to steel her nerves, but she hated being the ‘acting leader’ in such circumstances. It felt wrong, even more so now that Akira wasn’t leading because he was mentally incapable of doing so. At least when they’d been training, it was with the idea that Akira would be back in a day or two. Now, a small part of her wondered if he’d be back at all. What if the ailment wouldn’t fade until the Reaper was defeated? There was no way they could manage that at their current strength.

As she glanced around where the group huddled near the platform of the first floor – far enough to tempt the Reaper, but in a low level-enough area where any normal Shadow would flee at the sight of them – Makoto’s heart sank at the pale faces beneath the masks of her teammates. No one had wanted to admit that fighting the Reaper for a short amount of time, to trick it into casting a different spell and subsequently cancelling out Akira’s ailment, might not work. But they had no choice but to try.

If the only other option was to leave Akira as he was, losing his memory until he became a shell of himself, a danger to himself, then the Phantom Thieves would risk their lives without a second thought.

Makoto bit her lip as she watched Ryuji talk to Akira in a quiet, hushed voice. He was re-explaining their outfits and the place they were in, avoiding whatever specific words seemed to cause him pain or discomfort, such as Persona, and Akira listened, intrigued, but clearly still a little anxious about it all. He didn’t remember having this conversation on the train to the station, nor the quick recap he was given before someone had activated the Nav, but Ryuji wasn’t frustrated. He continued to talk with this soft, sad smile on his face, his mask set aside in case Akira might stop recognising him without it, and eventually, Makoto had to turn away from the scene. She couldn’t bear seeing the joy fade from Ryuji’s face when this conversation would inevitably have to begin all over again, not another time.  

She just hoped Akira knew, above everything else, that he was surrounded by people who loved him.

The Phantom Thieves had made a trip to Iwai, who had raised a brow when the entire team – save for Akira and Ryuji – had shuffled into his store and bought a large collection of accessories. While the various wristbands and earrings and necklaces appeared to offer resistance to each of their weaknesses, it wasn’t a lot of protection, and there was no guarantee of safety to any of them, especially not Akira.

It was better than nothing, though, and that was what mattered.

Aside from that, they’d spent their combined funds had been spent on heavy-duty curatives, stamina-increasing snacks and drinks, and revival items. Between the number of them, and the likelihood their somewhat impressive stash would be burned through in a heartbeat, morale wasn’t too high.

“But we’re doing this together.” Ann had insisted on the walk down. “We win together, we lose together.”

“But what happens if we lose?” Futaba asked fretfully. “We’ve had people knocked out in fights before, but not the whole team at once, and the Reaper is going to demolish us! So…what if…”

“I don’t know.” Yusuke sighed. “But we merely have to survive long enough to figure out how to undo the spell, correct? Surely, we can manage that. Even if we are missing our steadfast leader.”

“Aside from the Palaces, and Mementos of course,” Makoto mused, half to herself, “this might be our biggest gamble yet. I wish we had all the answers, but we just don’t.”

“Just remember to search for an escape route as soon as the battle commences,” Morgana said to Futaba, “and, once Joker is alright, we can use it to get out of here.”

“Yeah… ‘course.” Futaba nodded, wringing her hands together. Her stomach twisted as Akira and Ryuji walked over to join the group, and she noticed how Ryuji’s arm was wrapped around Akira’s shoulders a little tighter than usual. Akira didn’t seem to mind, but it made her wonder if Ryuji was worried that Akira would soon become prone to wandering off. It was a fear that she shared, amongst several others.

“Hey, Joker.” Ann said sweetly, stepping to the side to allow the boys enough space to stand between her and Makoto. “You enjoying the sights?”

“It’s…weird.” Akira took another look around. He frowned. “Where do all the trains go?”

“We’re not super sure, honestly.” Ann shrugged. “Somewhere downwards, I think.”

“So, what do you make of it all?” Yusuke was excited to see the expanse of the collective human subconscious through fresh eyes. “What do you think of Mementos?”     

Akira grimaced at the mention with a sharp intake of breath.

“You okay?” Ryuji’s arm slipped from Akira’s shoulders so he could take hold of Akira’s bicep, just in case he needed the support. “Joker?”

Akira’s eyes fluttered a few times before squeezing shut, as if irritated by a sudden flash of bright light. Ann and Ryuji were already rifling through their supplies to search for Akira’s migraine symptom-specific curatives before he’d even touched a hand to his head at the sharp pain. At this point, they had a system for taking care of Akira, worried that he wouldn’t take care of himself, otherwise.

“Forgive me, does the name alone cause you discomfort?” Yusuke asked with clear concern. “Joker-”

"I'm okay, Yu." Akira assured with a pained smile. "Just...give me a second."

Futaba watched a mix of expressions flitter across Yusuke's face in response. She wasn't sure if Akira usually called Yusuke by that nickname, and Yusuke was touched that he still remembered that, despite everything, or the alternative - that Akira could only remember the first syllable of Yusuke's name. It was hard to tell with how layered Yusuke's worry was, and the fact that it was clear Akira had forgotten that the Phatom Thieves used codenames in the Metaverse, despite how often the others called him Joker.

Futaba almost didn't want to know, and she couldn't bring herself to ask, either.

"Here, take these." Ryuji offered the curatives to Akira while Ann held out a cold drink to wash them down with. "You'll feel better in a minute."

"Thanks." Akira did as he was told with another tight smile on his face. 

"So, it's a little awkward to discuss this with Joker here," Makoto said, looking more than uncomfortable to bring up the topic with Akira standing right next to her, "but once the Reaper arrives, and the fighting begins, where should we have Joker stay?"

"He could stay with me." Futaba offered. "I don't think he'll fit in Necronomicon, but he could stay in the area, and I could keep an eye on him while searching for an escape route."

"Necronomicon? What, the book?" Akira asked, puzzled. 

Futaba winced as the others glanced at him with various degrees of sympathy and pity, and moved on without answering him. There just wasn't enough time.

"Are you sure?" Ryuji asked.

"Even if he wanders off-" Morgana began to speak, and Akira looked down at him with a start, and proceeded to shout at the sight of him.

"What the fuck is that?!" Akira yelped, and Ann and Ryuji burst into a fit of laughter.

"As I was saying," Morgana huffed, clearly embarrassed, "even if Joker wanders off, he shouldn't get too far. We're aiming to get out of this as soon as possible-" 

"-and once Oracle finds us a way out, we should be able to track Joker down quite easily." Yusuke finished. "That seems simple enough, I suppose."

While Ryuji and Ann, through their laughter, explained Morgana's appearance, Akira just stared at him in sheer shock, opening and closing his mouth as if he had a million questions and wasn't even sure where to start.

"I can't wait for the Reaper to show up," Morgana sighed, "so we can get this over with."

"Be careful what you wish for." Makoto chided gently, and Morgana's ears flickered for a moment, before straightening, as if on alert. 

"Mona," Futaba fretted as his expression became more concerned, "please tell me you didn't just jinx us."

The distant sound of rattling chains answered her all the same.

Akira didn't know a lot about what was going on, to be honest.

He knew enough to understand that the group was in this strange place because of him. Something was wrong with him, and these people – his friends, he reminded himself – wanted to fix it. He wasn’t sure how fighting something large and terrifying like whatever the looming creature slowly approaching them would fix him, but there seemed like no other way. Well, surely there was no other way, otherwise they would’ve tried that, right? His go-to response wouldn’t have been this route, he didn’t think. Not with the thing's large, menacing aura, and how the rattling of chains struck fear into his heart in a way he didn't quite understand. Even his friends looked on edge as the thing approached, and they were aware of what was going on! Fighting it - this had been their choice!

Again, he wasn't aware of a lot regarding his current situation, but what he did know was that his friends were clearly insane.

"Joker, remember to stay back here with me, okay?" Futaba was saying, sounding worried. She was floating in a magical glowing spaceship that triggered Akira's migraine symptoms whenever he looked at her, so he tried to focus elsewhere. If he thought about it for too long, everything within him would just ache, so she'd moved behind him, for his own sake, to lessen the impact. "Let the others fight, and let me know when the spell is undone, okay?"

"What spell?" Akira asked, raising a brow. Huh. That made his mask shift, he realised. Then, he frowned. Why was he wearing a mask, again? 

"You'll know what I mean when it's undone!" Futaba huffed, irritated. He didn't understand what she was so stressed about. Oh, right. Big monster. "Just...tell me when you feel better."

Well, at least that made sense. His head felt weird, and had for at least a while now. It sounded weird to blame the monster for that, but oh, well.

"Let's do this!" R... Ryu shouted up ahead, and the others surged ahead to fight the... Akira scratched his head. He was starting to lose track of who was who in those weird clothes, let alone what they were fighting. He had to turn and look down at his boots when the others became surrounded by those strange blue flames, summoning creatures that hurt to look at.

Then, he shifted his feet. Huh. He couldn't remember when he'd bought this outfit but it was really, really comfortable. He wiggled his toes in his boots, then stamped his feet, testing out the feel. Then, he rolled his shoulders, and stretched his arms above him. Yeah, super comfortable. Where had he bought this from? How much had it cost? 

Futaba was yelling about revival items behind him, something about someone being knocked down, and Akira zoned back into the fight ahead of him. Oh, right. Again, big monster. 

The guy with the kitsune mask and the girl with the red cat mask seemed to be down for the count, while the biker chick and the skull dude were trying to revive them. Akira winced. He felt like he should be helping, or something. Maybe he could assist, like a healer, and throw curatives their way? Would that work? He glanced over his shoulder and froze at the sight behind him. 

"It's just me!" Fu... Sa... Akira's guardian's daughter cried out from inside the...spaceship? "Joker, it's fine, okay? Just focus on something else!"

Akira clutched his head as he turned away, feeling a hot, sudden pain branching out behind his eyes. He felt dizzy, almost to the point of nausea, and staggered for a moment. The sounds around him faded into the background as he dropped to his knees, breathing heavily as it all became too much. Everywhere he looked just seemed to aggravate his symptoms further, to the point where all he could do was slam his hands over his ears and squeeze his eyes shut. Then, all at once, sound returned to him in a deafening roar, rattling chains, panicked yelling, and gun shots surrounded him. Each new noise was another barrage to his senses, another wave of pain washing over him and surging through him, and tears gathered in his eyes at the intensity.

He felt sick. He felt scared. There was too much going on around him, too much happening to him, that he couldn't process any of it.

Someone or something touched his shoulder, shaking him, shouting at him, and it felt like the final nail in the coffin - the push he needed to disappear. Without thinking, Akira dragged himself to his feet, and ran for it. Several voices cried out after him, but all of them were calling him by a name he didn't recognise, and for some reason, that just made him pick up the pace.

"Joker!"

As soon as Akira took off, Futaba began searching for an escape route, having lost track of her last one in the chaos of the battle. 

There was no time to waste, not with Akira running off on his own, scared and alone, and the rest of the Phantom Thieves struggling to survive. It was difficult to watch them struggle, however, burning through curatives with each and every move. It was all they could do to stay on their feet and stay alive, and Futaba knew it. All the while, Akira's marker was moving further and further away on her screen. 

Futaba could only boost the others' health and defenses so many times without running out of SP, and knew she'd need to preserve it for their next fight. So, relief flooded her when she'd secured their way out, and within a moment of her announcing it, Morgana was transforming and getting them out of there, Makoto surging ahead to get behind the wheel.

"This way!" Futaba slid into the passenger seat, pulling up a screen with Akira's marker on it for both her and Makoto to see. "He's not too far, we should be able to catch up in a minute or two."

"Yeah, well, the Reaper's still on our asses, so-" Ryuji moved toward the van door, Ann and Yusuke holding onto him while he dragged it open, "guess we gotta be quick. I'll grab Joker."

At the speed Makoto was driving, the rest of the team flinched at the strength of the wind that battered them the moment the door was open. Ryuji readied himself, planting his feet while Ann and Yusuke steadied themselves, ready to keep him upright when they caught up with Akira. It was hard not to flinch at the wind, and the sight of Shadows being so close to them as they sped by, but Ryuji wasn't focused on that. He was focused on finding his best friend. 

"Over there!" At Futaba's call, Makoto tightened her grip on the wheel. 

"Ready, Skull?"

"Ready!" Ryuji's mask disappeared as Makoto veered the van to the left. "Captain Kidd!" 

In one swift, frantic movement, Captain Kidd materialised, swept Akira into his arms, and shoved him toward Ryuji. The sudden added weight sent Ryuji, Ann, and Yusuke flying into the other side of the MonaBus, slamming into the closed door in a tangled heap of limbs. Makoto slowed down, careful not to slam her foot on the break, and pulled to a stop at the nearest platform to check on the others.

"Joker?" Ryuji asked, wincing a little as he clambered off of the others. "You good, man?"

Akira was shaking, breathing heavily as he surveyed the others with wide eyes. "What do you want?" He asked, a note of fear in his voice. "Where are we?"

"Hey, it's alright..." Ann reassured as Yusuke helped her sit upright. "We just want you to be okay. You can't go wandering around Memen-"

"Panther." Yusuke hushed her quickly. "The name, remember?"

"Right, sorry." Ann sent Akira an apologetic look. "You can't go wandering around this place by yourself. It's not safe. There's...monsters."

Akira swallowed. "How did I get here?"

"Before that," Makoto said, having turned around in her seat to see how he was, "do you know who we are?"

Akira frowned, cautious. "...Should I?"

The sound of rattling chains had the Phantom Thieves, sans their leader, on high alert.

"We have to get onto the platform." Futaba urged. "It's not safe on the tracks."

"I know a lot is going on right now," Ryuji said to Akira, "but we gotta get onto that platform over there, and then we'll explain what's going on, alright?"

Akira's gaze swept the space, from person to person, as he weighed his options. The fear in their expressions seemed to sway him, however, and he just nodded.

After clambering out of the MonaBus, and shuffling onto the platform, the Phantom Thieves sat down in a circle. It wasn't a Safe Room by any means, but they were yet to see any Shadows crawl up off of the tracks to fight them, so it was a safe bet for now. Akira looked around, clearly on edge, and was tense when Ann and Ryuji sat either side of him. For his sake, the Phantom Thieves discarded their masks, and, eventually, Akira did the same. His rebel attire seemed to confuse him as much as theirs did, based on his expression.

“I’m not sure where to start, exactly,” Makoto said, “but how much do you know about where we are? Or, if it’s easier, how much can you tell us about yourself?”

Akira’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t say anything. It hurt a little, to see him look at them with such visible distrust, but it wasn’t like Ryuji could blame him.

“You know me.” Akira said after a moment. A statement, not a question.

“Yeah, we do.” Ann nodded. “We’re your friends, Jo- …Akira.”

He frowned a little at her slip-up but didn’t mention it. Instead, he answered Makoto’s question from a moment ago, “I don’t know this place.”

“And you don’t know who we are, even without our masks?” Yusuke pressed, to which Akira just nodded. It made the others shift uncomfortably, their expressions ranging from nervousness to sadness at his answer. “That…that is a shame.”

While the others began to give Akira carefully worded explanations about where they were and who they were, while trying to coax answers out of him in return, Ryuji studied his best friend. There was something about the way Akira held himself, and the way that he spoke, that felt foreign and familiar to Ryuji all at once. It was in the tense set of his shoulders, the careful, cautious way he would look at whoever was talking, and how tightly his jaw was clenched when he wasn’t the one speaking. Even then, when Akira did choose to respond to the others, or ask them a question, it was in short bursts. More than a few times, Ryuji watched him swallow, take a breath, and need more than a moment to untense his jaw and open his mouth to speak.

After a few minutes, it hit him – Akira was acting like he had when Ryuji first met him, having reverted to the cautious, scared, distrustful version of himself from last April. That was when Ryuji had first learned what selective mutism was, and first learned to hate what it meant for Akira, what it did to him.

Thinking that Akira had reverted to that after all the progress he’d made since April made Ryuji feel ill. Even though Akira’s Reaper-induced amnesia was awful, and it was even worse that it had progressed so far so fast, a small part of Ryuji hoped that it would at least erase the memories of Akira’s arrest, and all the pain it had caused him since. Maybe then, he could have some peace from it all, even if that didn’t truly erase the event and its lasting consequences outside of Akira’s own awareness.

Did he not at least deserve that, after everything?

When Ryuji zoned back into the conversation, it seemed that the others had explained Akira’s amnesia. Akira didn’t seem too convinced about the situation, and continued to eye his strange surroundings and new acquaintances with visible distrust, but didn’t outright refuse anything they’d said or asked.

“So, will you help us?” Makoto asked. “I know we’ve said a lot of strange things, and we’re asking a lot of you even now, even though you don’t know who or where we are, but…”

“But we care about you so, so much, Aki.” Ann stepped in when Makoto faltered. “This – all of this, what we’re saying, what we’re asking, it’s for you. All any of us wants is for you to be okay, for you-”

“-for me to remember.” Akira surmised, and Ann nodded.

He looked down at his gloved hands and thought it over. He wouldn’t have believed most of their words if the place they were in didn’t match up with all of the other weird things he’d been told, but here they were. And, if he did believe them, then he was running out of time before he forgot even more of himself than he already had. That included the conversation he’d just had, meaning that there was no real time for him to consider his options. Even then, it wasn’t like he needed to.

These people looked, dressed, and spoke strangely. But, above all, all of them seemed to adore him. Each of them looked at him like he’d hung the moon and stars, and that was more than anything he’d ever had from those back home, even before his arrest. There wasn’t even a decision to be made.

“I’ll do it.” He said. “Whatever you need.”

He didn’t expect such a simple statement to bring so many of them to tears.

Akira stood with a piece of paper the kitsune mask-clad boy had fished from his artbook, his attention focused on what had been written. His instructions had been simple – keep your head down and keep your attention on the piece of paper. Simple enough, he supposed at first, but then he’d heard a strange, metallic, rattling sound, and since then he’d heard nothing but the chaos of an ongoing battle.

From what he could hear alone, it didn’t seem like a battle that wasn’t going well. There was near-constant shouting and what sounded like loud, booming gunshots that made Akira flinch each time he heard them. Even so, he wasn’t supposed to check to see how the fight itself was going, even though he wanted to check on the kind people he’d just spoken to. The instructions on the paper were very clear, after all, and he’d promised to stick to them. So, he read them. Then, he’d get to the bottom of the page, where there was an arrow that pointed to the top of the page and writing that said, just in case you forget, read again! That was helpful, considering that with Akira’s current, god-awful attention span, he kept forgetting what he’d just read by the time he got to the bottom of the page.

Speaking of which, Akira had just forgotten again. He frowned, scratching his head, and started over.

Hi Akira,

Thank you for taking the time to read this. Just a reminder that while we’re fighting, we need you to keep track of this piece of paper, and read all the instructions on it so you can help us out! We’re sure that you can hear all the chaos going on from the battle, but we need you to focus on these instructions. The creature we’re fighting is called the Reaper, and it cast a spell on you. To make sure the spell doesn’t hurt you, we need you to not look up. We need you to focus on this paper, to stay safe, and help us best!

Kind regards,

The Phantom Thieves! Xoxoxo

Just in case you forget, read again!

The sound of another gunshot, another attack from the creature, stole his attention. He knew he wasn't supposed to look, as all around the usual instructions, small speech bubbles were drawn with the message don't look! over and over again, as an additional reminder. Every so often, he'd catch a glimpse of those speech bubbles, become confused, then read the message, again. And then, for just a moment, it would make sense again. However, unlike the other near-constant gunshots, this one was different. He heard a loud, feminine voice call out about something's stats 'dramatically increasing'.

Then, something new happened, and Akira's entire form lit up in a bright, blue glow. After a blinding flash, the glow was gone, and Akira stumbled, clutching his head.

The battlefield vanished from his awareness, and his senses became dull, muffled, and muted to him.

Arsène returned to him in an instant, and Akira felt him in his heart, wings curled around him just as protectively as always. The other manifestations of his heart and psyche, the alternative Personas in his arsenal, responded in kind. They hadn’t vanished of course, but, just as Arsène, had been dormant in a space outside of his cognition – awaiting their wielder, and their other self, to return to them.

Memories flooded through him like water from a burst dam, memories of his friends, his teammates, and the family he had found with them. The Metaverse was a constant background in many of these moments, from Palaces to Mementos itself. He saw his friends awaken to their other selves, and saw himself aid them as they stumbled out of the Metaverse together, their bonds strengthening all the while. What felt more important to him, though, more precious to him that their outlandish adventures in other worlds, was the moments in-between.

The first bowl of ramen he ever had with Ryuji, right after they met. The first time Morgana had made them feel like a team, rather than his oblivious students. The first time Ann had opened up to him, and they'd bonded as kindred spirits. The first time Yusuke had taken him people-watching. The first time Makoto had seen him as a person, not a delinquent. The first time Futaba had stepped into Leblanc after she'd shut the entire world away. Before he knew it, tears were running down his face, and his relieved laughter was caught by the lump in his throat. It felt like he was waking from a deep slumber, his body felt heavy and sluggish, and his mind felt like it was shrouded in a dense fog, and yet those same symptoms were beginning to fade.

Strength was returning to him, in soul and mind, just as his memories did. It wasn't the intel he'd received from previous fights, though, nor the experience of countless battles. It was his loved ones. Remembering the trust between him and his confidants boosted him more than anything - such was the way of the wild card, to be strengthened by the bonds forged with those closest to them.

And through flame was how Akira best operated.

"Persona!"  

The Phantom Thieves looked over with relief as his Mediarama took effect, and he cast it another time before shouting for Futaba to find them an escape route, and fast. She wasted no time in doing so, focusing all her efforts on that while Akira continued to boost and heal his teammates.

“Forget about attacking, and focus on your health!” He shouted to his comrades. “We have to survive!”

“Happy to have you back, Joker!” Ryuji cheered, but there was a slight waver in his voice. “Let’s go!”

“It just wasn’t the same without you.” Ann wasn’t much better than Ryuji, wiping her eyes with the back of a gloved hand despite her forced light-heartedness.

“On your mark, leader.” Yusuke said, smiling warmly when Akira looked his way.

“We missed you, Joker.” Makoto laughed shakily. “Please, lead the way.”

Akira continued to call out orders, focusing on healing spells and curatives to make up for the Phantom Thieves’ low health and low SP. More than a few times, the others seemed to move to shield him from incoming attacks out of instinct, while he was more than happy to do the same for them, even more so now that he knew what they’d gone through and had been willing to risk for his sake. It was all he could do, for now, to return the favour.

Futaba’s announcement that she’d secured an escape route was like a victory fanfare. Akira grinned as Makoto let him take the wheel, led them out of Mementos, and back to the real world.

His friends crashed into Akira the moment Shibuya station faded into view with such force that it almost sent them crashing to the pavement in a heap. Around them, onlookers muttered about the display, but Akira couldn’t hear anything other than the words of relief from his friends, and, even worse, their tears.

Futaba was sobbing, clutching onto him like he’d disappear if she ever let him go. He couldn’t quite understand what she was saying in-between each sob, but he ruffled her hair and hoped he could console her enough with a hug and his words, as he reassured Futaba that he was fine and yes, he remembered her. After a moment, she stepped back to take a breather, not before Akira gave her another quick hug.

Ryuji and Ann decided to share their moment with him, squeezing Akira so tight that it hurt to breathe. Not that he minded, of course. He returned the embrace with as much strength as he could, his heart starting to ache at how much both of them were shaking in his arms.

“We thought we lost you.” Ann sniffled into his shoulder.

“I don’t know what I’d do if we did.” Ryuji was laughing through his tears.

“I’m okay.” Akira reassured softly, close to tears as well. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“We’re holding you to that.” Ann smiled, wiping her eyes as they pulled apart. “I mean it, Aki.”

Ryuji lingered for a second, squeezing him just a little tighter before stepping back with a playful punch to the arm. “Better listen to her, man. Ann’s pretty scary when she wants to be, y’know.”

Ann swatted his arm for that, but his teasing seemed to cheer her up a little.

Yusuke was next, opting for a quiet, almost crushing embrace with his face hidden in Akira’s shoulder. Akira winced a little at the intensity, but returned as much as he could, resting his head against Yusuke’s. After a long moment, Yusuke looked at him with a fond, tearful smile, and said, “Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” Akira said, smiling just as warmly in return.

 Makoto stepped up next, her hug just as fierce and desperate as the others, “I’m so glad you’re alright.” She said, placing a hand on his shoulder when she pulled back. “You really came through for us in the end, there. Thank you for that.”

Akira shook his head. “I’m the one that should be thanking all of you.” He insisted. “I mean it. You guys saved my life, and I have no idea how to make up for that.”

“I can think of a way!” Morgana chirped at his feet, and Akira grinned, sweeping him up into his arms.

“Let me guess,” Akira teased, beaming as Morgana rubbed his head against Akira’s cheek, “fatty tuna?”

“Fatty tuna at minimum!” Morgana huffed. “And that’s just from all the stress! We had to take on the Reaper and risk our lives for you, after all! I think sushi should be just the start!”

“Mona’s the type to eat his feelings.” Futaba reasoned, much to Morgana’s horror.

“I do not!” He squawked, aghast.

“Sushi does sound good, though.” Ann teased. “Surely you’re paying for all of us, Akira?”

While the others were smiling, simply joking around, Akira just laughed and said, “Sure, why not?”

An hour later, with full stomachs, and Akira’s bank account thoroughly emptied, the Phantom Thieves poured into Leblanc, laughter trailing behind them. Sojiro looked up from the television when he heard the door, smiling at them warmly. “Welcome back.” He said. “You kids have a good day?”

“The best!” Futaba skipped behind the bar to drag Sojiro into a big hug. “C’mon, key item!”

When Akira did as asked, and joined in, Futaba couldn’t help that small rush of relief that Akira remembered the little things, like her nickname for him, too.

“Don’t know what’s gotten into you two, lately,” Sojiro chuckled, patting their heads in turn, “but it looks like you’re having fun.” He looked to Akira then. “You feeling better, kid? You’ve been all over the place, lately.”

As Akira stepped back, and looked around the café, he couldn’t help but smile. “Never better, Sojiro.”

Sojiro clapped him on the back. “Good. Now, how about you kids take a seat? Drinks are on me.”

He brightened up at the chorus of cheers that rang through Leblanc and got to work as the rest of them settled into the nearest booth. While the coffee brewed, the Phantom Thieves continued their gentle, loving onslaught of questions that had begun on the train ride to Yongen-Jaya. To his credit, Akira seemed to welcome to barrage, unbothered at the constant queries. As the questions continued, even after Sojiro had handed out their drinks and headed home for the night, it was clear how much the team was relaxing. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any gaps in Akira’s memories, even when concerning the Metaverse – despite how much he’d forgotten at such a rapid pace. And, even better, any references to Personas or anything similar no longer caused him pain.

While he was glad that he’d recovered, it wasn’t like Akira wanted the night to end anytime soon, either. So, he stood up, gestured to the stairs, and said, “There’s one more test we haven’t tried.”

The resulting grins and the way Futaba and Ryuji barrelled toward the stairs, arguing over who was getting which controller, and what video game they’d start with, made it all worth it. Akira let the others lead the charge upstairs, more than happy to follow, for once, more than happy that he was surrounded by so many people who loved him so dearly.